


Jackpot

by nanasekei



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom Tony Stark, Face-Fucking, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-08 14:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17388443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanasekei/pseuds/nanasekei
Summary: It’s not always like this.Tony leans back on the bed, assessing his view. Near the door, balanced on his knees, Steve stares at him with half-lidded eyes, blue eyes darkened under those beautiful eyelashes. His blonde bangs stick a little to his forehead, where a glimmer of sweat is evidence of how long he’s been in that position: knees firmly planted on the rug of Tony’s bedroom, naked aside from a pair of cotton black briefs, hands tied up behind his back, exactly as Tony left him this morning. He breathes heavily, his muscular chest going up and down as he watches and waits.





	Jackpot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msermesth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/gifts).



> You said "soft Dom Tony" in your likes and it woke something in me, apparently. lol Hope you enjoy it! Happy holidays!
> 
> Thanks to Sheron for the beta and help <3

It’s not always like this.

Tony leans back on the bed, assessing his view. Near the door, balanced on his knees, Steve stares at him with half-lidded eyes, blue eyes darkened under those beautiful eyelashes. His blonde bangs stick a little to his forehead, where a glimmer of sweat is evidence of how long he’s been in that position: knees firmly planted on the rug of Tony’s bedroom, naked aside from a pair of cotton black briefs, hands tied up behind his back, exactly as Tony left him this morning. He breathes heavily, his muscular chest going up and down as he watches and waits.

Tony loosens his tie and undoes his cuffs. He takes his time. He’s certain his performance of indifference is not perfect, but it’s a hard thing to sell, when he all he wants is to look at Steve, to drink in the sight of his flushed skin, his parted lips, his muscles clenching and releasing in anticipation.

It’s not always like this. Usually, Tony would have wasted no time getting his hands on Steve, dragging him towards the bed and take him apart. He has done it countless times by now, and he fucking loves it, to clap the restraints on Steve’s hands and ankles and worship every inch of him. He knows Steve’s body like an engine– knows the exact spot to suck at on his neck, the way to tease his nipples, the right angles to fuck him against the mattress and into oblivion. Tony is first and foremost a scientist, and he studied and learned every bit of Steve Rogers’ pleasure like he learned quantum physics. He’d get a PhD in it if he could.

Steve gets a little self-conscious sometimes, shy at the thought of Tony doing all the work while he just lays there, but honestly, Tony could do it all day. Watching Steve come apart under him is the best feeling in the world. So many others could do that for Steve, but Steve chooses _him_ , and Tony would do anything so he doesn’t  regret it.

Usually, the restraints they use – well, for starters, they’re _actually_ restraints, unlike the flimsy rope tying Steve’s wrists behind his back now. Tony had them tested again and again to be certain they could hold Steve’s strength, and that’s part of the thrill, to get Steve to lose it completely, to take every little bit of his self-control and repression and throw it out of the window. Tony loves those moments, when Steve gets _lost,_ completely immersed in pleasure, his body forgetting to reign itself in, letting go in the most beautiful way possible. Tony can climax easily just touching himself and watching, taken by the way Steve’s body shivers under his, how Steve sighs and moans and gasps during his release, how his eyes squeeze shut and his cock bobs and shoots come everywhere, making a fucking mess all over Tony’s sheets. Tony likes to lick him clean afterwards, to take long, wet strides of his tongue over Steve’s stomach; to get consumed by Steve’s taste as he listens to his panting breaths.

Today is a little different. The rope on Steve’s wrists is just a regular rope. With the slightest effort, Steve could get himself free. There’s no point in him waiting like that for – Christ – _hours_ on end until Tony got off work, just like there’s no point in Tony to pretending he wasn’t dying to jump on Steve and take him right there on the rug since the first moment he laid eyes on him tonight.

Today is different, though. Today is not about release. It’s about control.

And Tony plays his part, much like he mentally rehearsed a hundred times through the day. He unbuttons his shirt and watches Steve from the corner of his eyes: the way his body shakes, how his pink tongue moistens his lips. Steve’s chest is pushed forward, presented as a gift, and his hands stay tied at his back, but Tony can see how he aches to arch forward, to come closer, to _speak._ He can see how Steve watches his every movement, how he barely blinks. His entire focus is on Tony, waiting for Tony.

The thought makes Tony take a sharp breath, to reign himself in. He will play this part to perfection, because that’s what Steve needs. And whatever Steve needs, Tony will give him.

“Well, look what we have here.” Tony drawls, voice not betraying the wave of arousal that washes over him when he finally locks eyes with Steve and sees Steve’s body shiver in response. He’s a vision, all that alabaster skin on display, sky blue eyes wide. Tony has to bite his inner cheek to not to smile. It could be anyone here, trying to take Steve out of his head, play with him, treat him like the toy he wants to be at times. Anyone, but Steve wants Tony.  “Seems like I was expected.”

Steve inhales sharply. Tony can see how his eyes blink, pupils blown wide, red lips half-open. _God, he’s beautiful_ , he thinks, and for a moment he wants more than anything to walk towards Steve and claim that mouth, that hot, delicious mouth that he knows is his to take. But he knows how this works – he needs to be patient. They will get to it.  

“I—”

“Didn’t say you could speak,” Tony interrupts, cutting, and Steve actually _shudders._ Tony allows himself to give him a once-over, taking in the strong pectorals and rosy, perked nipples; abs glimmering with sweat and the firm tent in his black briefs. Tony’s mouth waters when he thinks about Steve’s cock, thick and beautiful and so fucking wonderful in his mouth, so big Tony can barely stretch his lips around it. It’s delicious, and Tony knows just the way to bob his head and swirl his tongue over Steve’s slit to get him leaking. The first times, Steve warned him, but Tony always ignored it, happy to feel Steve’s come shooting down his throat, sometimes not even resisting sucking a little onto his softening, oversensitive cock, loving the weak, gasping noises it got him.

Tony licks his lips and reigns his mind back to present matters. His eyes go to Steve’s shoulders, flexed in a clearly uncomfortable position, probably to keep himself from ripping the rope apart.

Steve was like that all afternoon, Tony thinks, and he’s _dizzy_ with the realization, by the overwhelming rush of affection and want. He was like that all afternoon, for Tony. Just for him.

 _Why_ , a voice in his mind asks, but Tony shushes it, because he can’t have that right now. He can’t get distracted. Tonight Steve doesn’t need to defeat HYDRA, doesn’t need to save the world. Steve needs to focus all his energy on one thing, to direct his drive to do something within his reach. He just needs to be good for Tony, and Tony is here to let him do that, to give him this.

“Come over here,” he orders, and Steve’s nod is shaky. His eyes dart away from Tony’s to the small distance between him and the bed, a glimpse of confusion at the sudden request, and Tony hurries to take over: “Crawl.”

Steve’s next nod is slightly more steady. He leans forward and moves his knees, dragging one after the other over the floor.

He could break his hands free in a second, could stand up and walk towards the bed. But he doesn’t. He moves awkwardly to the foot of the bed, and Tony sees that it takes effort to keep the position, to not rip the rope.

Tony’s eyes go to his thighs, and for a moment he gets lost in those beautifully sculpted muscles until he catches a glimpse of Steve’s knees when he moves. They’re red from the strain of spending the day in that position, and even for a supersoldier, Tony thinks they must be hurting.

The thought makes Tony’s heart ache, then sends a spike of arousal in his belly. He doesn’t have the slightest clue what he’s done to deserve this. He’s usually all about the giving, but tonight it’s Steve who gives himself to him, and he does it so fully, so beautifully that Tony’s dick is already hard by the time Steve reaches the bed, pupils huge in the clear blue of his eyes, panting from both exhaustion and anticipation. He’s only seeing Tony now, and for a moment the magnitude of this trust is almost too much, almost enough to get Tony to break the scene.

He focuses on removing his shoes and socks, without acknowledging Steve, breathing heavily in front of him. He does it slowly, tossing the items aside as he takes them off, finally finishing by spreading his legs, the fine wool of his pants stretching across his thighs, boxing Steve in the middle. His knees tap the bulging muscles of Steve’s shoulders, and Steve’s eyes fall to his crotch, a few inches from his face.

Tony watches as he swallows. Then his eyes dart up, towards Tony’s face, expecting, waiting.

He’d wait as long as Tony wanted him to, Tony realizes. God, he would, he’d stay there and wait even if Tony pulled out his Starkpad and decided to work on the next Mark right there, with Steve’s breath brushing the front of his pants. The thought is like a current of electricity through over Tony’s body, and he thinks he might do that, someday, if he manages to control himself long enough. To drawl it out indefinitely, to distract himself with a simple tasks while Steve remains there at his feet. _His_ Steve.

 _So good,_ Tony can’t help but think, as he leans forward. _So fucking good for me, babe,_ he thinks, and the words almost roll off his tongue, too honest, but he holds them it back just in time.

He lowers his hand to Steve’s hair, fingers clutching it, yanking his head backwards just slightly.

“Were you waiting for something, soldier?”

Steve’s breath hitches, his glorious chest coming up and down as he gasps for air. His eyes find Tony’s, and Tony keeps his gaze steady, strong, not trying to hold back his desire.

“Y-yes,” Steve stutters, licking his lips afterwards. It’s more of a nervous habit than a seduction tactic, but the sight make Tony’s cock twitch all the same, that plush mouth so close and still _way_ too fucking far away.

He tightens his grip on Steve’s hair. “Oh, yeah? What were you waiting for?”

“You.” Steve’s reply is immediate, easy, and Tony feels his heart swell. _You,_ says Steve’s every breath, every inch of his glimmering naked skin. _Just you, Tony._

Tony leans forward, can’t resist lowering his head and scraping his teeth over Steve’s exposed throat. Tony nuzzles his silky skin, feeling his smell, that faint sweet scent of soap mixed with salty sweat. He wants to bite him, but in the end, no bruise would mark him more than what he’s doing right now, giving himself to Tony entirely, at his will and mercy.

He pulls away, still holding Steve’s head. He yanks at his hair again, angling him just the slightest bit to the other side, just to pull his hair even more, enough to hurt a little. Steve lets out a tiny noise, but Tony can see the way he bites his lower lip, the way a flush blooms on his cheeks.

“And what do you want with me, my Captain?” Tony asks with a menacing smile. _My Captain_ comes out mockingly, a sneer at Steve’s current position. His _Captain_ , right next to Tony’s bed on his knees, with Tony’s dick a few inches from his face.

( _His_ Captain.)

Steve takes a sharp breath, tongue flickering over his lips again. His flush deepens, and Tony fucking loves the way it spreads, coloring the tip of his ears, already descending down his neck.

He takes his free hand to Steve’s forehead, strokes the few loose locks of his hair. Blond strands of hair shine, reflecting the bedroom lights, and although Tony’s ostensibly the one in control, for a moment he feels downright weak. His toy, his Steve. Carved for him in marble and gold.

“Answer me,” Tony orders. His voice doesn’t betray how helpless he feels at the sight of the faint pink hue over Steve’s skin matching the red of his tempting parted mouth. “What do you want?”

Steve’s eyes blink rapidly, dart towards Tony’s crotch. “You,” he says, and Tony’s pulls his hair strong enough to make him gasp, forces him to look up.

“You’ve been here all day. You must have an specific idea in mind. Tell me, what do you _want_?”

Steve swallows. He breathes – in and out, in and out -, blue orbs finding Tony’s as he whispers: “Want to suck your dick.” His voice shakes, as if he’s trying to keep it under control, but he can’t fully mask his desperation. Something inside Tony melts. Guarded, stoic Steve, at his feet. Begging. “Want—want you to fuck my mouth, Tony. Please.”

 _Yes,_ Tony thinks immediately. _Yes, yes, anything you want._ What he says is: “Hmm.”

He lets go of Steve’s hair, running his hand over it instead, scraping his nails slightly against Steve’s scalp. Steve sighs, and Tony needs to press his lips together to not let his smile turn too fond.

“Is that what this strategic mind of yours has been thinking about all day? Taking my dick down your throat?”

Steve shudders. He nods shakily but certainly, and Tony lets go of his hair, takes his hands to his belt.

“And you’re gonna take it good? For me?” he asks, unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. He’s hard as a rock and his cock bobs out of his briefs, almost brushing Steve’s face. Steve’s eyes watch it, dark and greedy.

“Yes,” Steve says, and it comes out as a whine, desperate and broken. “Yes, Tony, I—Please.”

Tony takes a moment, hands at his sides, just watching the scene. It’s a marvelous contrast, Steve’s flushed, pretty face right in front of his own flushed, already leaking cock. A masterpiece, really.

Steve waits, muscles shifting slightly, eyes darting between Tony’s cock and his face – he’s so fucking good, Tony can’t even deal, waits for permission even when he’s so clearly eager, desperate for it.

“Open your mouth,” Tony orders, and Steve obeys immediately, his eyes closing. He’s so ready, and Tony is ready too, practically dying to feel that sweet mouth around him, but still he stalls, leans forward and sticks two fingers inside Steve’s mouth instead.

Steve immediately sucks both of his fingers, tongue brushing the pads of Tony’s fingertips, sucking so eagerly Tony has to bite back a groan. His mouth is warm, lips making obscene noises. Tony’s cock twitches again, and Tony’s whole body feels hot now. His free hand curls in the sheets, holding on tight as his breath hitches. He can’t help but move in closer, knees now pressed against Steve’s shoulders. He has to take a deep breath so as not to shiver at the way Steve’s mouth _sinks_ on his fingers, sucking as if there’s nothing he wants more, a tantalizing promise of what’s about to come.

“Look at you,” Tony says, pressing his fingers further. Steve takes it, because of course he does, moaning around them. Tony lowers his eyes to the front of Steve’s briefs, sees the small wet patch and feels himself shiver, his other hand immediately flying to his own cock.

“You’re already wet, aren’t you? So fucking desperate for it.” He gives himself a few strokes, but stops at the base, unable to keep going with the way Steve’s eyes flutter open, fixated on him even as his mouth never stops. “You knelt here all day thinking about my cock in your mouth, filling you up, choking you. _Dreaming_ of it.”

Steve shudders in response, another moan shaking between Tony’s fingers, and fuck, it’s too much. _He’s_ too much, and Tony is pretty sure Steve’s fantasy doesn’t involve Tony coming all over him before Steve even gets his mouth on Tony’s cock, so he removes his fingers. Steve lets out a tiny noise of protest that goes through Tony’s whole body, and keeps his mouth open, red lips glistening with saliva.

Tony had wanted to do this smoothly, slowly, but he can’t bring himself to. He arches his hips forward, guiding his cock into Steve’s mouth, feeding it to him. He shuts his eyes reflexively as he feels that wet, blinding heat, letting out a loud groan when Steve’s lips close around him. Steve leans forward to sink further and take as much of Tony as he can before Tony pulls his hair, holding him in place.

“Slow down,” Tony huffs, and God is it hard to keep his voice unaffected, with Steve all around him. Steve, ever so obedient (so fucking _good_ ), stops, just letting Tony’s cock rest over his tongue. Tony opens his eyes and looks down, and he can see Steve’s muscles clenching at the effort to stay still. He marvels at the extent of Steve’s sheer _want_ , at how he hands Tony control of it without hesitation. He can’t see the rope on Steve’s wrists, but he knows Steve is conscious of it, struggling to restrain his body to keep the rope intact.

“God, you were fucking made for this,” Tony says, after a moment of just watching that wonderful picture of Steve’s lips stretched obscenely around his cock. He grips Steve’s head tightly, angles it, and thrusts forward. The tight clench of Steve’s throat around his cock is almost too much, and Tony’s eyes flutter closed. He opens them again soon, reluctant to miss even a second of Steve’s face. Steve’s eyes are open but half-lidded, as if he’s distant, lost in the feel of Tony filling him up. “Such a sweet fucking mouth, Cap. So fucking pretty. This is what you should be doing all the time.” He punctuates his words with thrusts, and he can see Steve’s face growing even redder at his words. Tony feels his arousal pulsing, building up in a crescendo.

“I should― _Fuck_ , I should do this during team meetings,” he breathes, panting, and he doesn’t miss how the suggestion makes Steve’s whole body shudder. “If I unbuckle my belt, sit down and open my pants― I bet you’d drop to your knees immediately. You’d beg for it and not care who heard it, wouldn’t you?”

He angles Steve’s head and keeps trusting, trying to keep his eyes low, to watch every moment, but it’s fucking hard to not let them shut, immersed in that tight, wet heat. His hips keep moving, meeting the pace he sets as he pushes and pulls Steve’s head, fucking his mouth like he’d fuck a blow up doll.

There’s spit spilling out of Steve’s mouth as Tony’s thrusts increase in speed, going deeper and deeper. Steve gasps and moans, sound muffled around Tony’s cock, and he’s too fucking much, so fucking gorgeous. Tony forces himself to stop, to pull back for a moment.

Steve _whines,_ head chasing Tony’s cock, but Tony holds him in place, watches the mess of spit and pre come all over his mouth, leaking towards his chin. His eyes are a deep blue, staring at Tony with adoring blown wide pupils, and his lips are swollen and puffy, bright with slick and saliva.

Tony pushes his head closer, brushes the tip of his cock over those perfect shapely lips, tracing them. It gives him a rush of possessiveness at the the filthy image, a shiver spreading over his body at the light brush of Steve’s soft mouth. He knows he’s not gonna last, but he wants this picture forever engraved in his mind, of Steve wrecked and messy, pliant and sweet, covered in nothing but Tony and still wanting more. Steve’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, mouth kissing the tip of Tony’s cock, and that alone almost pushes Tony to the edge.

Tony runs his hand through Steve’s hair, ostensibly angling his head but also just stroking. He pays attention to the signs of Steve’s body – his flushed chest keeps going up and down, his erection evident in his black briefs, the wet spot larger than before. Tony searches for any sign of doubt, of hesitation, but there’s none, just Steve’s eyes looking up at him, ready to take what Tony has to give.

 _Anything,_ Tony thinks, dizzy with arousal. _I’d give you anything._

He pulls Steve’s hair a little, a sign to get him to open his mouth wide again, and just feeds him his entire cock, sinking so deeply he can feel Steve’s nose brushing against his groin. He hears Steve choking in reaction, the muffled noise he makes. “Fuck,” he breathes, pulling Steve’s head back and pushing it again, feeling the tight clench of Steve’s throat around him, scorching hot. The heat spreads over Tony’s body, his legs shaking, and he can’t feel anything other than the slick movement of Steve’s mouth, sliding over his length again and again as Tony keeps thrusting into his throat. Steve’s noises evolve into moans that travel through Tony’s body, and it must be too much. Tony looks down and can see tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, and he would be worried about it if it wasn’t for the way Steve’s lips tighten around him and his throat clenches as if he wants to swallow Tony whole.

"You’re so— _Fuck,_ so fucking good for me, Steve,” Tony blurts out, unable to keep track of his own words anymore. He feels entranced, consumed, and everything that isn’t Steve’s mouth just fades. His hand is tight on the locks of Steve’s hair, damp from sweat, and Tony increases his rhythm, wanting to take away every breath of those supersoldier lungs.  He thrusts and thrusts and thrusts, losing any control of his strength or rhythm, lost in the pleasure that builds inside him like a wave. “Wish I could just keep you here forever, keep that pretty mouth of yours filled with my cock, just— Yeah, right there, fucking _perfect,_ you’re just—”

And it’s the way Steve’s body shudders at the praise, the way he shivers around Tony, that sends him over the edge, his orgasm washing over him in a wave of white, bright heat. He comes down Steve’s throat and Steve takes it, chokes on it but never pulls away, swallowing every drop of Tony’s come as if he needs it, like water.

Tony’s body hunches forward, limbless as he tries to regain his breath. Steve, fucking perfect Steve, doesn’t move, waits for Tony to pull his head away patiently. Tony pulls him quickly and Steve’s mouth releases him with a wet _pop_ that’s so obscene Tony is pretty sure the memory alone will get him hard again, some other time when he plays through every moment of it oin his head.

Tony inhales deeply, managing to compose himself a little. He lowers his head, nose touching Steve’s forehead, and grins wickedly when he looks down.

“Aw, baby. Look at the mess you made.” He brings his foot inwards, rubbing it just slightly over the big wet spot over Steve’s briefs. Steve squirms involuntarily at the touch on his sensitive, now softening cock, and Tony presses a kiss to his temple. “Didn’t even have to touch you,” he hums, pleased.

For a moment, they stay there, both catching their breaths, and Tony skims his hands over Steve’s back, stroking the definitely now sore muscles. He leans forward to be able to stroke the full length of Steve’s arms, reaching the knot, still firmly tied.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, and doesn’t miss the way Steve pretty much _purrs_ at the praise, body now fully melt against Tony’s. He presses another kiss to Steve’s head, quickly untying the knot, bringing Steve’s hands to the front of them. “Don’t even know how I got this lucky,” he says, and it’s nothing new, what he says, it’s expected, part of this, of what Steve needs. But there’s something else in his voice, a fondness that Tony fears verges on the edge of too revealing, and he hurries to mask it, leaning forward to capture Steve’s mouth in a long, deep kiss, tasting the wet mess he made, reveling in the possessive thrill of tasting himself on Steve’s tongue.

When they pull apart, Tony helps Steve up. He sees the way his knees are shaking, moves to let him onto the bed.

“FRIDAY,” Tony says, hands stroking Steve’s cheeks, wiping the mess of spit and come with his thumbs. FRIDAY doesn’t need further instruction, immediately starting the standard procedure of filling in the bathtub.

Tony reaches for the bed cabinet, where a towel awaits. He pats Steve’s face gently, strokes it over his arms, especially careful around his wrists. He runs over Steve’s stomach, removes his briefs, pats very lightly on his inner thighs and his softened cock. Steve lets him do it, watches him as if in a trance, and every once in a while Tony comes up to him, cups his cheeks, presses light kisses to his forehead and temple and whispers how good he is, how wonderful he felt. This part is so natural at this point it feels instinctive – Tony fucking loves it, loves the way Steve feels relaxed and pliant in his arms.

“I’ve already said it, but it bears repeating,” Tony whispers, when he finishes wiping off the sweat from Steve’s shoulders. “I have no fucking clue how I got this lucky.”

The words are again too earnest, too sincere, too close to the overwhelming blooming feeling inhis chest to be let out like that. It’s easier now, though, with Steve still in his post-orgasm haze. He’s so soft, mush in Tony’s bed, maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he can’t catch the full meaning of the light kisses Tony presses to his skin, of the way Tony’s arms hold him like he’s ready to never let him go. Maybe it’s not so obvious.

Steve smiles, a lazy half-smile, still flushed and breathless, and he curls up closer to Tony. They’re a gross mess right now, all cuddled up before taking a bath, but Tony doesn’t mind.

“You’re not lucky,” Steve whispers, his breath so warm against Tony’s shoulder. “’m lucky.”

Tony tries to keep his expression under control, tells himself that this—this is how it usually goes. He’s ready for it, he knows, it doesn’t—it’s not like it _means_ anything, he’s aware of it by now, he _knows—_

Steve turns his head, presses a kiss to Tony’s jaw. “’m so damn lucky.”

Tony will never get used to the way Steve is looking at him now. Never.

“Well, if you say so,” he says, and he sounds choked up, which, damn, he shouldn’t, but Steve’s _face_ , he can’t, that’s just—“Guess we both hit the jackpot, then.”

Steve’s smile is lazy, and Tony just leans forward, pecks his lips with a light kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! One day I'll learn to write smut with these two without feelings getting all over it, I'm sure.
> 
> Comments and kudos warm my heart <3


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